Fractured
by lafantomette
Summary: If only he would have tried a bit harder, it would hurt less. Darvey One shot to cope with episode 701


_A/N: So huh episode 701. Quite a shocker isn't? I kinda sensed something funky would happen but never in my wildest most catastrophic scenarios I could have imagined THIS happening (don't let me start about how gross and unethical it is even if the APA waiting period is over Harvey clearly still needs help PLUS it came out of nowhere and...) OK end of rant. I needed to cope. And after a solid 24h of hating Darvey with a passion their chemistry and all they have was remembered and it seems I can't escape them. So there it is. Writing crazy fics is my therapy. Be warned that this is probably the weirdest fic I've ever written but I am totally blaming Suits for making me emotionally unstable this week. Feel free to comment, critic, cry, yell, whatever. Hope a few of you will enjoy. -a very annoyed Fantomette_

* * *

If only he would have tried a bit harder.

Not that Donna needed a grand gesture, no, but she did tell him once she needed comfort. By then, after all that happened between them, after the panic attacks, the therapy, Jessica leaving, she and him holding hands…The little moments, the big moments. The wins and the losses.

It isn't much to expect after all that they've been through: wanting to feel his arms around her, holding her, telling her everything will be alright.

No. Instead, she cried and he stood there, saying nothing, looking heartbroken.

She didn't sleep well that night…

* * *

Usually Harvey wants to send them home after sex but this time, he doesn't. Even if he has a pounding headache. Surprisingly, they have sex again. They repeat. Sleep. Repeat. Then, he can't stop talking about himself. She listens and listens, probably a habit she picked up from her job, giving her more patience than the average woman. She gives him a pointing look, she's had enough of listening to him. He's a narcissist. He knows he is. It's like all women brings that in him, all except one. Obviously, the one lying naked next to him is not the one. There's only one woman he can't lose and it isn't her.

He kisses her, pressing himself on her thin frame. She's bonier than what he usually goes for, but he finds more comfort in her words than her touch anyway. She does all the right things and she is pretty enough. He likes her. He'd be an awful man if he wouldn't. She touches him down there and he groans. He closes his eyes and tries to remember things he did long ago with the one he's aching for. Maybe he's more awful than he thought.

It takes everything for him not to say out loud the name he wants to say when release comes. Not that he could ever mistake one for the other, they are different. The one in his bed is all those other women. As for the woman who isn't in his bed, she's different, she will always be, because he's in love with her.

She takes his hands, linking fingers under the covers. His heart beats faster, not for the right reasons. Her fingers don't quite fit between his, it feels wrong.

"This is nice," she says with that cute accent of hers.

He nods and kisses her, thinking it's the next best thing when you can't have what you want because you are too coward to risk what you have.

They should try to sleep. His whole body hurts. Maybe from the constant internal emotional fight within himself. He thought he could get over it and avoid it one last time but he can't. It's there. The feelings are there. She cried and he could have hugged her, comfort her, told her everything was going to be alright, but instead he went to the other woman. He closes his eyes but they still itch. His head hurt so much and he feels like he's in a haze, even if he can't remember having a drink. He's tired of it all. As he falls asleep he keeps thinking everything hurts way too much.

* * *

The last time she saw that woman it was in her home office. She looks different, obviously got dressed in a rush, jeans and old t-shirt. Donna is far from looking like her usually polished self too. She is not surprised the blonde woman remembers her name. "I knew you were the first person I should call, Donna."

No words are needed. Paula just offers a smile, then a small hug. Like old friends.

She sits next to him, not trying to fight the tears. Donna Paulsen's hand fits perfectly in Harvey Specter's hand.

* * *

First there's pain.

It's overwhelming, really. He can't even say where it hurts the most. It's like he's discovering parts of his body he didn't know existed. He opens his eyes to emptiness. Seeing nothing. Maybe he's blind? It hits him then, he's always been blind. He had been a fool. That is what hurts the most…

Parts replay in his head like a bad movie. He can't even convinced himself the sex was meaningless because it had so much meaning. He needed something and he was too emotionally stunted to get it. He feels nauseous. That wasn't the skin he wanted to feel under his hands. It lacks colors, freckles like stars in his dark universe. He thinks about her then. How she smiled and rearranged on his wall the picture his mother gave him. How she was always there, fixing. Helping.

He can feels her presence.

Slowly, he sees light, colors. Red. Her.

"Hey…" she says, her voice soft.

He realizes it's her hand in his, he presses his fingers around hers as a reply. She's been crying again. It's his fault, again.

They just hang in the moment, reality slowly catching up on him.

"You really scared me there," she says.

"Sorry." He barely recognizes his own voice, strained, broken.

"You were out for a while…" she stops and bites her lips. " Do you remember what happened?"

He doesn't know where to start. He thinks about it, about the other woman. Tears start rolling in. He hasn't cried that much in years. He finally knows what to say.

"I wanted her to be you. All along. Every time it was someone else, ever since we met. It was you. I'm sorry."

She seems puzzled. She stops stroking his hand. She sits closer to him, he can feel her hips against his waist and it's all of her he wants next to him.

"I don't know why I dated Paula!" he cries louder than he should. "It was some kind of therapeutic bullshit. I should have said something or do something when you said you wanted more. I'm a goddamn pussy."

She still looks totally lost. Unexpectedly, she swipes the tears off his cheeks, her hand soft against his bruised skin.

"Can't you remember anything?" She says, putting emphasis on the last word.

"I just told you. I'm so sorry. Donna…" he touches her hair. "I hope we can patch things up. I don't know what went through my mind. I love you."

"Love?"

He nods. "Love."

"So you don't remember. You called me. You told me you love me and you were sorry you didn't step up and comfort me."

His hand, no longer playing with her hair, is now resting on her forearm. He doesn't know what to say.

Everything is a blur. Like puzzle pieces shaken in a box.

"You told me you wanted the more to mean everything. With you. But that you knew you still had issues. That you wanted us to work. You were driving to see your therapist."

He was so captured by her that he hadn't seen it before. His own skin, pale and bruised. The IV line going through his hand. His left leg he cannot move. His ribs hurting with every breath he takes. Suddenly, he remembers small bits and pieces. It still doesn't make sense. It all seemed so real.

"I remember the car crash. I was talking on the phone…"

She nods. "It happened right on Doctor Agard's street."

She leans in closer, her hand caressing his face. She breathes on his skin, he closes his eyes and smiles even through the pain. Being with the wrong woman was just a bad dream, a dream that made him realized he couldn't wait any longer, no matter what.

Maybe five minutes passed, maybe an hour, there's no way to know as they say time goes faster when you are happy. He opens his eyes only when he feels her lips softly brushing against his, he's waited too long for this, doesn't want to miss a single detail. The way her hair falls around her face, slightly curling, the way her fingers twitch when he opens his mouth to brush his tongue against hers, the way she moans very lightly when he deepens the kiss, his hand cupping her beautiful face, the way all of this feels perfect, finally. She smiles against his lips before he moves a little, the pain totally worth it, leaving a space so she lies next to him in that hospital bed.

"I have no idea what went through your mind in these last four days you were in a coma but just so you know, yes I love you too and I am not going anywhere."


End file.
